


When the Curtain Falls (The Show Must Go On)

by problematiquefave



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s04e03 Good Out Here, M/M, Reunions, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematiquefave/pseuds/problematiquefave
Summary: Whether this is heaven or hell or somewhere else, all that matters is the peace Nick feels and the person he's with.





	When the Curtain Falls (The Show Must Go On)

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place directly following s4e03: Good Out Here so beware of spoilers.

It hurts. It hurts _so_ much. There are no words to describe the way it hurts or the extremity of the pain – it’s something you can only understand if you’ve felt it. And if you’ve felt it… Well, you only feel it once. Because, for as intense as the agony is, it fades like the dimming lights and swimming faces above him. Because it disappears into the darkness that consumes him. Because death comes, and like a hero, saves him from it.

This is death, he thinks – staring heavenward, feeling the tickle of grass on his skin. The pain is gone, the skies are blue, and the grass tickles his skin. Alicia, Luciana, and Strand are no longer standing over him. The washed out world has disappeared. This is death and…

And he likes it.

Nick has never known peace. Maybe in a time long ago, maybe in memories lost, in childhood moments forgotten. It’s been too long though. He hasn’t known peace since before his father’s death. He searched for it, over and over, in the highs of his addiction, in the lows of the gutters. He searched for it in reckless abandon, in people who sought to save him and people who sought to drag him down. There were times when he thought he found it – with his family, with his friends, in his garden, in a horde – but now that he can feel it, now that it sinks so deep into him that he can feel it in his bones, he knows those were just pale imitations.

He could be content to just lay here forever – in the grass and flowers, staring at the blue expanse of sky, listening to the melodic chirps of birds. Maybe he does. He feels no sense of time or impatience, just peace.

Eventually though, after much leisure, Nick clambers to his feet. The field stretches before him, disappearing into a thick copse of trees. Purple flowers litter the ground and a small creek flows around the clearing. Something about the water calls to him and, while there’s no urgency to it, he decides to follow it. He walks beside it until he’s feet away from the trees. There he pauses, sinking to his knees and dipping his fingers into the stream. It feels like cold silk against his flesh; he cups his hands in the water and brings it to his lips. It’s the most refreshing thing he’s ever had.

This must be heaven.

Which is a strange conclusion – he’s never believed in heaven and, even if he did, there’s no possible way he could get into it. Too many sins for such a luxury. There’s also another argument against that.

_Troy_.

Their eyes meet when Nick looks up from the stream. Troy is standing there, across the water, in the tree line. He looks _alive_. Well. Though he’s still got his scruffy facial hair, there’s fresh-faced about him – something he never saw when Troy was alive. The scar on his cheek, from where Madison stabbed him with the spoon, is gone. He also looks like he’s gotten some goddamn sleep.

Time is fluid wherever they are – whether Nick stares at him for a second or a year, he’s not sure, but when he finally snaps himself from his stupor, he stumbles across the creek and to the other side, throwing his arms around Troy. The older man is solid and warm; stiff at first but, after a moment, Troy’s arms wrap around his shoulders and draw Nick even closer. There’s no hesitation, no fear, no desperation; it’s a million times better than the first time they hugged, when they were high, alone, and surrounded by death.

Again, whether it’s a minute or a month that passes, Nick can’t tell nor can he bring himself to care. When he pulls away – only slightly, hands still on Troy – his eyes meet Troy’s. They’re blue and clear and beautiful. Troy looks back at him, both searching and relieved.

“Hey Nicky,” he murmurs and _God_. Nothing has even sounded so harmonious in Nick’s life than Troy’s voice right then, right there. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The goofiest grin spreads across Nick’s face, reaching from ear to ear. It cracks when he sees Troy smirk back at him, devolving into a fit of laughter the leaves his lungs empty and his chest hurting. It’s a good pain though. A happy pain. It’s not the pain of death or a bullet to the chest. It’s not the pain of betrayal or loss. This is a miracle and he doesn’t care about the details or the reality – all he wants is to hold onto this and onto Troy who is definitely not a ghost. Or, if he is, then so is Nick, and they can be ghosts together.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I read the spoilers, saw the scene, and opened up a Word Document. This is what came out of it. You can find me [here](https://problematiquefics.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. I take requests and especially need some to distract me from tonight's episode.


End file.
